Scars On The Soul
by Oratorio
Summary: She's young, vibrant, the toughest woman he has ever met. He's a grizzled old mercenary with a history. Women aren't on his agenda, unless it's in the dark corners of a seedy club where nobody looks too hard at his face. He's spent twenty years of his life pushing people away. Yet, knowing her might just change everything.
1. Chapter 1

He held the gun steady as ever, finger twitching on the trigger as he eyed the batarian grovelling in the dirt and begging for his life. When did his life come to this, he wondered, a combination of cheap hits on pitiful targets and nights spent in grubby bars smelling of rough alcohol and sex. He didn't even have a home to call his own these days, squatting in abandoned hovels in the lowest parts of Omega with wannabe mercenaries and petty thieves. A far cry from his days in the Blue Suns, when he had both power and infamy. He had been young, handsome, cocky. Thought he had it all worked out, had felt untouchable. Women had wanted him, men had wanted to be him. So quickly it had all soured, he sighed. He had never imagined his life turning out the way it had.

Sure, people still feared him. But did they respect him the way they used to? He didn't think so. On bad days, he wondered if even the fear was a by-product of the way he looked, rather than his actions.

He narrowed his eyes at his target, lined up a shot dead between the creature's four eyes.

"Zaeed Massani, I presume."

He looked up, started in surprise and lowered his rifle. Took a deep breath to calm his suddenly-hammering heart.

"You presume right. Seems you need no introducing, Shepard," he said, thinking to himself that she looked different from the vids. Taller, stronger, more _vital_. Like she glowed.

Commander Shepard walked right up to him, her hand extended. He shook it firmly and met her eyes with an intense gaze, trying to convey that he was more than just a second-rate bounty hunter. That he was a soldier too, maybe not her equal but _worthy_ nonetheless.

"You've been recommended to me by the Illusive bastard," she said, and grinned - her whole face lighting up for a moment. "That doesn't mean a whole lot to me, I gotta be honest with you, but things as they are at the moment, I'll take who I can get. You with me?"

Zaeed raised his rifle, shot the batarian once through the head – a clean shot, he was pleased to note – and nodded. "For the credits I'm being paid, I'm with you. On one condition."

Shepard raised an eyebrow, clearly unused to bargaining with piece-of-trash mercenaries. "Spit it out, Massani."

"Got a little mission of my own I need to finish off. You help me with that, I help you be a big goddamn hero and save the galaxy. Reckon that's a fair deal," he said.

Shepard chuckled. "Deal. The Normandy's docked up back along," and she pointed back down the corridor from where she had come. "Go make yourself at home. I'll catch up with you later."

With that, she left – on a mission of her own, no doubt, followed by a burly marine type and a woman in the tightest catsuit he thought he had ever seen. He shook his head wonderingly, trying to work out why anyone would wear such a thing in a combat situation. More suited to Afterlife, he thought, the sort of broad he might offer some credits to for a fumble in a dark corner after he had consumed his weight in liqueur. Not like Shepard… he shook his head as he recalled the way she had looked him directly in the eye without flinching. Unlike catsuit woman, she wore no make-up and her dark blonde hair was scraped back in an unflattering bun. The armour she wore was solid, shapeless and practical. Goddamn, though, there was no doubt she was _quite_ some woman.

* * *

It turned out that Shepard was actually interested in hearing his stories, too. She told him how she liked to get to know her crew, and would often perch on a crate in his makeshift quarters after a mission for a quick debrief and a chat. She did this with everyone, he knew, but he couldn't seem to stop the buzz of excitement which coursed through him every time his door slid open and she stepped through it. Inwardly, he cursed himself for his idiotic reactions, for his enthusiasm for their talks and for his unusual willingness to spin her tales from his past. It had just been such a long time since anyone had wanted to talk to him at all, let alone such an impressive and interesting soldier… and a beautiful woman, he couldn't deny that. He hadn't spent any serious time getting to know a woman in this way since before Vido's betrayal.

And that was twenty years ago.

Christ, no wonder he felt so out of his comfort zone when she was around, even knowing that she would never be interested in him as more than a colleague – God knew, he was fifteen years her senior and looked old enough to be her father. And then there was the small matter of his face.

Two decades on from the gunshot, and Zaeed still couldn't look at himself in a mirror. Lucky he was more of a fighter than a lover, he thought, with a face only a mother could love. Fat chance of even that from his ma, the bitch was eight years in her grave now and he hadn't even gone to her funeral. He was on his own, as he had been for the last twenty years, and that was the way he liked it.

So why was he responding to Shepard's friendly overtures, he wondered, why was he so eager to spend time with her and to talk about things he thought were long buried in his past. Nothing good could come of it. Even if it didn't always feel that way. When she was sitting there with him, her long legs swinging against that crate, he actually felt… happy. As if the coldness in the pit of his stomach was melting and flowing like fresh spring water through his veins. It was the way she focused on him so intently, he thought, as if he was the only person in the galaxy, as if the stupid story he was telling was the most interesting tale she had ever heard. She made him feel important, and nobody had done that for… hell, had they ever?

Goddamn, he needed to spend less time with that woman. He really didn't want to feel this way. He was comfortable with his solitude, with his own company. He didn't need this. Didn't need the fucking flicker of hope that she might seek him out more than anyone else, might actually _care_ beyond being a damn good professional. That she might be the first friend he had made in more years than he could count.

The very idea was so ridiculous he laughed out loud, bitter and sharp. "Fucking hell, Massani, four months on board this ship and you're turning into a delusional motherfucking asshole."

"Talking to yourself, Zaeed?"

Shepard must have slipped through the door without him noticing, light on her feet for such a tall woman. He flushed slightly, wondering what she had heard, then decided to ignore her comment.

"Shepard. Something I can help you with?"

"So formal," she laughed, teeth white in her tanned face. "Nah, it's more something I can help_ you_ with. Got some time on the way to Korlus, thought we could detour out to Zorya for that mission you wanted to finish up."

Zaeed's heart thumped hard. This could be it, the moment he had waited for for so many years. He felt the adrenaline start to zip through his veins. "Thank you, Shepard. Appreciate it."

"EDI, how long to Zorya?"

"Approximately five hours, Commander." EDI's disembodied voice rang through the room.

"Thank you, EDI. Get yourself ready, Massani. I'll meet you on the bridge when we land. Anything else I need to know?"

Zaeed thought there was quite a lot she ought to know, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her, not until they were on the surface. Too much of his past had taught him not to trust anyone, and this was no different. He had to get to Zorya, nothing could stand in his way.

"No, Shepard, it's just as I said. We're reclaiming the refinery from a group of mercs. Should be a straightforward run. See you in a few."

She nodded once, abruptly, and was gone.

* * *

The mission had gone to hell. From the moment he set eyes on Vido again his head had started to buzz and he could barely remember anything after that. He remembered Shepard shouting at him – he had never heard her so furious – and the acrid taste of smoke. He knew that he had to get after Vido – the man had ruined his life, he had to make him pay. But Shepard – damn her, she had refused to follow him. Had instead focused on the refinery, on the people inside, and Jack had gone with her. Vido had got away and he had never felt so empty and so full of emotion at the same time.

"Twenty years, Shepard! You have no idea!" His voice was rising to hysterical levels and he knew he was losing control.

"Those were innocent people, Massani. You're totally out of order," Shepard said, her own voice almost dangerously calm. She infuriated him, this was all her fault.

Before he knew it, the gun in his hand was pointing at her. It was as if he was floating outside his own body, his mind a mess of revenge and bitter anger. _Someone _had to pay for this. He ejected the heat sink and tightened his finger around the trigger.

It all happened so fast after that. The explosion was still ringing in his ears as he swore and cursed and pulled fruitlessly at the steel beam which had collapsed on to him, pinning him to the floor. His rifle had been flung clear and was out of reach. He was entirely at the mercy of the woman he had wanted to kill just seconds earlier.

She was leaning over him, her hair a mess, a smear of soot on her cheek. His eyes widened as she pushed the barrel of her snub-nosed pistol against his forehead.

"You put your own desire for revenge ahead of the mission, Massani. That's unprofessional and unacceptable. I can't have people like that on my ship."

Shepard's face was hard, her gaze flinty. Christ, she was going to do what Vido had failed to do. She was going to kill him. He closed his eyes.

Her voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and harsh like nails on a blackboard. "While you're part of our team, we all work together. You understand?"

He was silent, the impact of her words sinking in. She was going to let him live. All of a sudden, he felt the shame of his behaviour wash over him – his anger being swallowed down, back into the dark spaces within him where it had lived for the last twenty years. Not gone, but under control.

"You have a point. I apologise, Shepard. I… wasn't thinking," he said, his eyes cast down.

He felt the pressure of the steel lift as she slid the beam off his legs and held out her hand to help him up. "You weren't," she said, simply. "But you're still a hell of a soldier, and I need you on my side. Come on. Let's get out of here."

Nobody said another word as the shuttle landed to pick them up.

* * *

She didn't come to see him that night, nor the night after. For his part, he shut himself away in the cargo hold where he slept, didn't see a soul for three days until hunger finally drove him out to the mess.

Garrus was sitting at the table in the mess hall, and Zaeed hesitated until the turian nodded at him and indicated that he should sit.

"Zaeed," Garrus said, his expression hard to read as ever. "Long time no see."

"Yeah, well. Didn't seem like I was flavour of the month round here, after that last fuckup."

Garrus laughed, an odd mellifluous sound. "Was pretty bad, I heard. From all accounts, if Shepard didn't respect you so damn much you'd still be lying on that planet now. Count yourself lucky she likes you, huh?"

Zaeed snorted and looked down at the table. "Christ knows why."

"Who knows," Garrus said, his voice serious now. "But I should tell you, if you throw that trust back in her face, it won't be Shepard you have to worry about."

Zaeed met the turian's eyes, saw the light flash in the blue depths. Garrus was one of Shepard's best friends, her one true confidante. Zaeed had no doubt at all that the turian meant every word he said.

"Loud and clear," he said, his voice soft. "I won't let her down again."

"Glad to hear it," Garrus said, pushing his tray to one side and getting to his feet. "Perhaps you need to make sure she hears that."

Zaeed stared after him as he disappeared back into the main battery, his mouth slightly open. The thought of having to speak to Shepard… he didn't know what he could possibly say to her that would make anything better.

He barely had time to think about it, as Shepard swung herself into the chair next to his mere minutes later.

"Massani. Was wondering if you'd sneaked off the ship when we weren't looking."

He grunted. "Just been busy, Shepard."

Shepard laughed at that, her voice light and relaxed. "Busy doing what, Massani? Busy sulking, perhaps?"

Zaeed glared at her, speechless. She smirked back at him, knowing that she had the upper hand.

"Look, Zaeed, I just want you to know there's no reason to avoid me or anyone else. I might not know what it's like to be betrayed like you were, but I do understand how it is to have your entire life pulled out from under you, and to lose part of who you are. I didn't much like having a gun pulled on me by someone I was growing to trust, but I can get over it, if you can," Shepard said, her eyes fixed on him as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Christ, Shepard, I'm fucking awful at apologies but I wouldn't have ever wanted to hurt you back then. I was just so angry, I wasn't thinking straight. Nothing you can say to me could make me feel any worse about it. If the word of some old mercenary means anything, I can promise you it won't happen again. From now on, you can trust me. I've got your back."

She nodded once, her face serious. "Glad to hear it. So, we good?"

Zaeed huffed out a deep breath. "Yeah. We're good."

* * *

And they were. They were bloody good together in a firefight, no doubt about it. It was as if she instinctively knew what he was going to do next, where he was going to move. He had never fought alongside anyone like her. Tough, intuitive and ruthless in battle, yet she never lost the spark of energy which made her human. He would look out for her after every enemy had fallen, and had memorised the sight of her covered in blood and dirt, searching for her companions, her smile brilliant white in her grubby face when she saw they were safe and well. She was one in a million alright.

She was visiting him in the cargo hold again, too, resuming their friendly conversations as if nothing bad had happened between them. As if he had never threatened her with a rifle, as if she had never been forced to hold a gun to his head in return. He barely even thought about that any more, and to his complete surprise he found he was thinking about Vido less and less too. He guessed he had more important things to focus on at the moment.

He was oiling his old rifle, his back turned to the door, when he heard it slide open and her familiar voice call out his name.

"Shepard," he acknowledged, without turning round.

"I was wondering if you could help me out here," she said, her voice slightly hesitant.

"Just give me a minute, I just need to get this oil -" he said, turning round and stopping in his tracks when he saw Shepard standing just inside the doorway. His words were entirely lost, he had no idea what he was about to say or do. All he could do was to stand very still and take in the sight before him.

"Okay, close your mouth Massani, you never seen a woman wear a dress before?"

Shepard was indeed wearing a dress, and what a dress it was. It was tight and short, and made of some rich black velveteen fabric which had a wonderful sheen. Her hair was loose – he had never seen her with her hair out of her trademark bun – and he was amazed at how long it was, cascading in golden blonde waves half way down her back. She was wearing make-up – another first – he would never have thought she needed it to make her look beautiful, but the smoky eyeshadow brought out the green of her eyes and she looked…

Well. She looked, quite simply, stunning. He would have had no clue that she had a figure like _that_ hidden under the thick armour she wore in battle, or the baggy hoodies and cargo pants she favoured during down time on the ship. Her legs were long, smooth and tanned, the muscles tight and defined, made feminine by the patent leather heels she was wearing. Her hips flared out beneath a nipped-in waist and – his eyes slid over her body – her breasts were larger than he had imagined, round and full and, fuck, he was staring. It was obvious he was staring.

"Massani? My face is up here, in case you had forgotten."

"Uh, sorry, Shepard. Goddamn. Just, never seen you in anything so, well, formal before. What's the occasion?"

Shepard rolled her eyes. "Would you believe a mission? Kasumi asked me for some help, just like you did. A personal thing. Said yes, just didn't realise it involved going undercover at some ridiculous dinner party. Jeez. If I'd known, I might've thought twice. I look bloody stupid."

"You look great, Shepard," he said, thinking that was the understatement of the century. She was a goddess. "You needed me for something?"

"Ha. Yeah, this is embarrassing, but I can't get the zipper done right up on this dress. I'd ask Kasumi, given that it's her bloody fault I'm having to wear the thing, but I can't find her anywhere. Would you just give me a hand?" She turned her back to him and pulled her hair to one side.

He swallowed hard. "Sure thing, Shepard. You know me. Gun-for-hire, goddamn tough bastard, personal dresser."

She laughed softly, a sound that travelled straight to his groin as he fumbled with the zipper and fastened the dress, the heat of her body and the scent of her perfume – some sort of exotic spice – giving him thoughts that were entirely inappropriate. He stepped back, flustered and half-hard in his trousers.

"Thanks Zaeed, you're a star. Now, wish me luck. If I manage to get through the evening without breaking an ankle in these stupid shoes, I'll frankly be rather surprised." She winked at him and opened the door to leave.

"Well, good luck Shepard. I doubt you'll need it," he said as she walked awkwardly out of his room, clearly not used to heels. "I fucking do, though," he added under his breath. Of all the absurd situations, developing a crush on the ridiculously beautiful, young and sought-after commanding officer of the Normandy had to be right up there in any list of the most idiotic things he could do.

Even so, he couldn't get the thought of her out of his head that night. Imagining unzipping the dress and peeling it off her shoulders, down to her waist. Picturing what her breasts would look like, how it would feel to weigh them in his hands. Wondering what she would taste like, her skin, her sweat, her velvet softness. Pretending that his hand was her body, that she was moaning his name as he made her come over and over again. She would be hot and tight around him, desperate for him to be deep inside her, to move hard and fast and… fuck.

Zaeed looked around for something to clean up. He felt disgusted that he had allowed himself to get so carried away with a stupid fucking fantasy. This was not for him, not his world. When he had been younger, yeah maybe. But it hadn't been like that for a very long time. Sex for him, now, was mostly quick and mostly paid for, and then only when he was very drunk and could strip down in the darkness of some dingy club or back room. Women generally wouldn't look twice at a fucked-up old bastard like him, except out of pity. He was used to that. And someone like Shepard - well, there wasn't a man in the galaxy who could say he was her equal. She was so far out of his league, it would be like a princess marrying a varren.

He knew he was being stupid, he really did. Even so, he didn't sleep well that night, tormented by thoughts of spicy perfume and black velvet.

* * *

Shepard was in the mess hall the next morning, face scrubbed clean of cosmetics and her hair scraped back into its usual bun. She was wearing her favourite baggy hoody and slouchy pants, and it was as if Zaeed had dreamed the night before. He sank into the seat opposite her with a sigh.

"Didn't break any ankles then, Shepard?" he said, smirking.

"Ha. Not mine, at least," she said, grinning back. "I swear I'm never gonna wear those shoes ever again. They gave me_ blisters_. I don't understand why anyone would do that to themselves."

"Don't ask me, Shepard. Can't say I've ever worn heels myself."

There was a silence as they conjured up the same image of Zaeed in stilettos, then they both burst out laughing at the same time.

"Well, now, that's something I would like to see," she said, wheezing slightly with mirth.

"Ain't gonna happen," he said, shaking his head in amusement.

"C'mon Zaeed, there's _nothing_ I can do to persuade you?"

The smile froze on his face for a moment as he noted the flirty tone she seemed to have taken with him. This was not something he was comfortable with, and he shook his head and looked down at the table.

Shepard shrugged. "Ah well, I'll just have to live with the mental image then. Just so you know, in that image you're also wearing a dress."

"Fucking hell, Shepard."

Shepard laughed out loud, a proper belly laugh, and patted him on the shoulder. "Aw, you love me really, Zaeed. Anyway I should go, long day ahead. You up for this Horizon mission? Could be pretty hairy."

"You know me, Shepard. Up for anything, so long as it involves killing stuff," he said, trying to keep a straight face.

"That's what I like to hear. See you later, Zaeed."

She squeezed his shoulder again hard, just once, and left him sitting in the mess hall gazing thoughtfully into his coffee.


	2. Chapter 2

Zaeed didn't know shit about that uppity Alliance asshole on Horizon, but he couldn't fail to notice Shepard's reaction to the bile he was spitting at her. Sure, she had schooled her face carefully into a neutral expression - but not before she had given away her true feelings, her face crumpling as if his words had stabbed her straight through the heart. Whoever he was, the fucker would have a shitload of explaining to do if Zaeed ever got his hands on him.

Yeah, they might have been too late getting to the colony – but they were doing good work goddamnit. Probably the only good work he had done in his life. If they hadn't shown up when they did – well, that sanctimonious bastard wouldn't be reporting anything back to Alliance HQ, that's for sure. He'd have been whisked off on that ship with the rest of the locals. No damn loss, either, in Zaeed's mind. One less superior, self-righteous arse to deal with.

Shepard had called for the shuttle, her voice flat and her whole body almost folding in on itself. She had hunched up in the corner of the Kodiak, as far away from everyone as she could get, closed her eyes and tuned out. He wondered just what the deal was with that guy, who he might be to get under her skin so badly. And just what sort of idiot would speak to Shepard that way, so vicious and wounding. Guy was a moron, no doubt about it.

* * *

Zaeed had never been up to Shepard's cabin before; wouldn't ever have dreamed of showing up uninvited. Only, it had been two days and hardly anyone had seen her. She'd communicated with EDI, he knew, because their course was set for Ilium and the next mission. At least she was still focused – but he was worried. He might be a reclusive old bugger at times, but Shepard – she had never hidden herself away from her crew before. Something was wrong.

He buzzed on the door hesitantly, heard EDI's mechanical voice announce his presence. Minutes ticked by, his feet scraping against the ground as he shuffled awkwardly, wondering whether he should just leave. Eventually the door slid open and Shepard stood there, dark circles around her eyes and her hair a hastily tied-back tangle.

"Zaeed. What do you want?" Her tone was unfriendly, though her face just looked tired.

"I just wanted to see if you were OK. Nobody's seen you since, well, since we got back from Horizon."

She huffed a bitter laugh. "Why would you care?"

"People give a damn about you, Shepard, and it's not like you to disappear like this. Look, I'm probably the worst person to do this kind of shit, but if there's anything I can do…?" He was regretting this idea already. Should've sent Garrus, he didn't have a clue about humans half the fucking time but at least he would be _softer_, if that was the right word.

"Nothing anyone can do, Zaeed," Shepard said, shaking her head. "I just have to get used to the fact that I can't trust anyone, and be more wary about who I care about in the future."

"That guy?"

Shepard flinched as if he had struck her. He inwardly cursed; the last thing he had wanted to do was to bring _that _up, make things worse. Goddamn, why did he ever think he could do this whole fucking sympathy thing?

"_That guy_, as you call him, is in the past. Learned my lesson. Now, I'd rather not talk about him, if that's okay with you," she said.

"Sure thing. Sorry, Shepard," he said. "I should go."

"You don't have to," she said, her face softening suddenly. "Come in, if you want. We could watch a vid, have a brandy. Should warn you, I haven't showered so I might be a bit ripe, but if that doesn't put you off…?"

Zaeed laughed. She could never stay so serious for long. "Yeah, why not. Pretty sure I've smelled worse. Been down the cargo bay after Rupert's curry night, reckon I can handle however you're honking, Shep."

"Good. So, what you wanna watch?"

* * *

Two movies later and Zaeed's arm was dead, Shepard curled against it and engrossed in the third offering – some awful turian sci-fi with the worst special effects he had seen for years. Her movie collection was fucking awful. If he wasn't trying so hard to be her friend – and that was a weird concept in itself – he'd have given up after the first ten minutes.

When the credits finally rolled, Shepard sighed and sat up – his arm almost instantly starting to tingle. He rubbed it hard as she yawned and stretched.

"Not being funny, Shepard, but given that you spend all your days travelling through the galaxy getting into crazy firefights, how come you want to watch these kinds of movies during your downtime?"

"Not in the mood for a comedy, and have you ever tried watching the romance shit that gets made these days? No thanks. Rather watch what I know about, anyway," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"Fair enough. I'd best be going, anyway, Shepard. Night cycle's coming up and – don't take this the wrong way – but you really look like you need to try and get some sleep."

She punched him in the arm lightly, which made him wince as his shoulder was still numb and cramping from where she had rested against him.

"Thanks, Massani. But yeah, you're right. Don't want people gossiping, after all."

He flushed, not having even considered that thought. Christ, being alone with Shepard in her cabin for three hours… he hadn't thought about how that might look to the rest of the crew.

"I hardly think anyone's likely to come to those conclusions," he said, forcing a smile.

Shepard snorted. "Ha! What, you think everyone believes I'm some kind of paragon of virtue? Think I've already proved them wrong about that, long time ago…"

Her voice trailed off and she swallowed hard, instantly back into the pensive mood he had found her in earlier that evening.

He could have kicked himself. Trying to keep it light, he let out a laugh. "Hardly, Shepard. Just that, woman like you could pretty much take her pick of guys. Girls. Whoever took your fancy. Nobody would believe you were up here knocking boots with some battered, miserable old merc old enough to be your father."

"You're not old enough to be my father, Zaeed."

"Whatever," he said, getting to his feet. He'd had enough of this conversation now. "See you around, Shepard."

He headed to the door, not looking back – not even when she called out to him.

"Goodnight Zaeed. Thank you for tonight. I needed that."

He simply nodded and continued walking, out to the elevator and back down to his cold, bare room.

* * *

It would be nice, Zaeed thought, if just once they could finish a mission that wasn't almost guaranteed to give them all nightmares afterwards. Just fucking once.

Shepard was on her knees on the ground, cradling the man's head in her lap and whispering to him, comforting words. _All over now, no more pain, we will look after you._

Just when he thought that he'd seen all the evil there could possibly be in the world, there was this. Created by the poor man's own brother, for Christ's sake. There were times when, if only for a moment, he thought the Reapers had the right fucking idea.

When the man, still whimpering and reciting equations, had been safely signed over into the care of Grissom Academy for recuperation – and Christ knows how long that would take – Zaeed, Shepard and Jack all boarded the shuttle to return to the Normandy, quietly reflecting on the horrors inflicted on a vulnerable man by those he should have been able to trust the most.

Jack broke the silence, of course. "Fucking Cerberus. Just wish I could tear all their fucking heads off and piss down their necks. Fucking evil. All of them."

"Eloquent as ever, Jack," Shepard said with a weak smile.

But nobody could disagree.

* * *

Zaeed was horrified that, so soon after the hideous spectacle they had found on Aite, Shepard was heading out alone to Alchera, the planet on which the first Normandy had gone down.

The planet on which her body had lain before Cerberus had got their hands on it. She would basically be visiting her own grave.

"Shepard," Garrus lay a hand on her shoulder as she suited up and headed towards the cargo bay. "You sure about this? I mean, I'm sure Hackett could find someone else for the task. I really don't see why he's asking you to go."

"Thanks Garrus," she said, her voice muffled through her helmet. "But it ought to be me. They were my people. I owe it to them to bring something back for their families."

Joker was piloting the shuttle down to the glacial planet, leaving the Normandy under the control of its AI. Zaeed was sure there was some pretty heavy survivor's guilt going on there, but he didn't say anything to the man. At least Shepard would have someone she trusted with her, someone who might have some idea what she would be going through.

In the meantime, Zaeed found himself strangely restless, worrying about what she was finding down on the surface of that beautiful but inhospitable world. Concerned about how she would cope being faced with the reality of her own death, and that of so many of her crew – her family. He well understood how close she was to those she worked with, and this mission was bound to hit her hard.

Yet… since when did he care so much about anyone other than himself?

Since she had walked into his life on Omega, nearly six months ago now. He had known, really, since the moment he saw her that she was a force to be reckoned with, that nobody could have Shepard in their life and not be affected by her bright energy, her honest command and her genuine affection for everyone on her team. He had just been sucked in along with the rest of them. No point trying to deny it, he sighed. She was under his skin like ink.

He sank down into one of the cold metal chairs in the mess hall and waited for her to return, idly playing dominoes with Garrus – who was just as distracted as he was.


	3. Chapter 3

Zaeed wondered how much more of an emotional battering Shepard could take. He had the feeling he might be in for a few more hours of crappy sci-fi movies, given the look on her face when she finally returned, shivering with cold and the ghosts of the past.

She walked past them all in the mess with a purposeful stride, grabbed a dusty bottle of wine from the back of one of Rupert's cupboards (he had no idea how she had known it was there) and disappeared into the elevator. Joker eased himself down into the chair next to Garrus.

"Tough day, huh?" Garrus asked the pilot.

"The worst," Joker said. He looked as if he had been turned inside out, drawn and pale. Zaeed briefly wondered if there was any more of that wine still hidden in the cupboards, the pilot certainly seemed like he needed it.

"You know it wasn't your fault, right?" Garrus said, resting his talons lightly on Joker's forearm.

"What would you know? You weren't even there. You'd done your bit, fucked off home. I don't need to hear it, Garrus, not from you," Joker pulled his arm away, dragged himself to his feet.

"Joker – wait," Garrus said, but Joker ignored him, limping back to the elevator and his place of safety, the cockpit.

The turian sighed. "I suppose I'd better go after him, apologise. You okay to clear up here, Zaeed?"

"Sure thing. Go sort him out," Zaeed replied, already gathering up the dominoes, cards and empty coffee cups which littered the mess table.

He thought he ought to go and see if Shepard was coping. If Joker was such a mess it couldn't bode well for her, given that she had actually died down there. The look on her face when she'd come back, though – she really hadn't looked like she wanted conversation or company. He dithered.

* * *

"Commander, apologies for the interruption but Mr Massani is downstairs muttering to himself about coming to speak to you. He seems uncertain about your favourable response. I thought you might like to be aware."

Shepard lifted her head from the pillow where she had buried her face, screaming silently into the bedding. Her cheeks were stained with drying tears and her face was red and blotchy. She really did not feel like company, but perhaps it might do her some good. After all, Zaeed was hardly likely to want to talk about emotional matters. Maybe they could just get drunk together and bitch about everything.

"Send him up, EDI," she said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

"Are you quite certain, Commander?" EDI actually seemed _concerned. _ Shepard could never quite get her head around an AI sounding so human.

"Yes please, EDI. And could you ask him to bring up some more of that wine? It's in the third cupboard along, tucked behind that brown rice that nobody ever touches."

"Will do, Shepard."

* * *

Zaeed buzzed on Shepard's door, clutching the last two bottles of wine from the kitchen. He was surprised that she had asked to see him, and he had quickly gone back to his room to smarten up. _Why bother, _he thought to himself, _it's not like you're on a date. _But there was still a part of him that wanted Shepard to see him at his best. For all that was worth.

"Come in, Zaeed," Shepard called, the door sliding open.

"I brought reinforcements," he said, waving the bottles.

"Just what I needed." She took the bottles from him, immediately opening one of them and pouring herself a large measure. The bottle she had previously taken from the kitchen lay empty on its side on the low table, dripping slow claret tears on to the surface.

Zaeed filled a second glass and sat down beside her, putting his feet up on the table.

"Sometimes, Shepard, the world is full of shit," he said simply, raising the glass.

"I'll drink to that," she said, her voice only slightly slurred for the alcohol she had already consumed. She clinked her glass against his, spilling some of the wine on to her hoodie, before taking a long swig.

They drank in silence for some minutes.

"I ever tell you , Zaeed, about the time I accidentally shot my teacher at N-School?" Shepard said eventually, leaning back against the cushions of the sofa.

"You know, Shepard, it's usually me bending your ear with my old stories. Not heard many of yours," he said. "You shot your teacher and still passed? Only you could get away with that one."

"Yeah, well, I was brilliant," she smirked at him. "And that teacher was a sly old perv. Mightn't have been as accidental as I made out."

"Must have been a goddamn fool to try any moves on you," Zaeed said.

"Ha. Most people are too scared to, which makes actually forming relationships pretty damn difficult. Not this guy though, sleazy bastard," she said. "Anyway, we were in some combat simulation and I was on point. We were supposed to have those red blanks in our guns, you know the ones, so they could pinpoint our shot accuracy without actually using live ammo. Only, whoops, I forgot and loaded my pistol wrong."

Zaeed sniggered. "What happened, Shepard?"

"Guy came up way too close behind me, I spun round and unloaded my Carnifex right into his groin. Swore blind I'd given the whole squad instructions to lay low, so that I expected anyone coming up on my back would've been an enemy."

"You never gave him those instructions, I'm guessing."

"You got it. Only, rest of the squad backed me up. They knew what he was like," Shepard said, taking another gulp of wine. Zaeed was pretty sure you should sip that stuff, but like hell was he going to mention that in the mood she was in.

"And nobody said anything about your live ammo?"

"Said I'd taken the rounds from the blanks crate. When they checked the crate, the guy that audited it said he'd found half a dozen more live rounds mixed in with the blanks. Just bad luck I guess that I'd picked one of them up," Shepard grinned at him wickedly.

"Don't tell me," Zaeed said.

"The guy lied to cover my back, sure. Nobody liked that damn teacher."

"Shot in the bits, though, fucking hell. That had to hurt," Zaeed said.

Shepard looked at him in amusement, huffing out a surprised laugh. "Bits!"

"What?"

"You refer to your, you know, as bits?"

"Better than "you know"," Zaeed said defensively, biting back a smile.

Shepard blushed suddenly and didn't quite know where to look. The conversation had taken an odd turn.

"Well, Shepard, after that little story I guess I had better remember to wear my codpiece at all times when we're in a fight," he said.

"Zaeed, you don't have to worry. I wouldn't do a thing to harm your _bits_," she said, elbowing him in the side.

"Better not. I'm rather fond of them, you know," he said, lightly.

Shepard actually _giggled_ then. Christ, he thought, he didn't even think she was capable of making a sound like that. Let alone on a day like today.

She leaned over and refilled both their glasses.

"You know, Zaeed, when I first met you I thought you would be an unpleasant, bitter old bastard. I fully admit I only went through with the Illusive Man's suggestion to recruit you because I was pretty desperate for some crew members who weren't Cerberus flunkies."

"Gee, thanks," he said, shaking his head.

"No, come on, give me a chance here," she said, looking him in the eye and reaching out to grab his hand. "What I want to say is that I was wrong. You've been a good friend to me, the right kind of friend. Exactly what I need, in among all this chaos. So, thank you. I know I've said it before, but I really mean it."

"Been a long time since I've had a friend, Shepard. Not sure I've ever really been any good at it. Glad I've helped though, a little bit."

"More than a little bit, Zaeed," she said, her gaze intense now. "There's times I think I will never feel happy again, but then you come along and the shit all goes away, even if only for a while."

She squeezed his hand and they sat silently staring into each other's eyes.

Zaeed broke the spell. "My pleasure, Shepard," he said, his eyes sliding away and his voice gruff.

He felt elated and embarrassed all at once. If the sofa could have swallowed him whole right then, he would have welcomed it. This was too much for him, the feelings overwhelming. There was a lump in his throat and his cheeks burned, his scar a hot rope across his face.

Shepard's arm slid around his waist and her head leaned against his shoulder. At least, sitting like this, he didn't have to look at her face and see the raw emotion in it. He closed his eyes, back rigid and tense.

"Relax, Zaeed," Shepard said, sleepily. "I don't bite."

He couldn't relax any more than he could dance the professional tango. Her body was too close, too warm. All he could do was count backwards from one hundred in his head, several times, before he heard her soft snoring.

Gently, he extricated himself from her grasp and lay her down on the sofa, covering her with a blanket and pouring her a glass of water for when she woke up. He couldn't resist planting a soft kiss on her forehead before letting himself out of her room.


	4. Chapter 4

Things didn't get any prettier. Three days later, Zaeed found himself backing up Shepard and Jack on a mission to Pragia, the Cerberus facility where Jack had grown up. Though, seeing the place, he thought she hadn't so much grown up as been forced up. No kid should have to go through this sort of shit.

At least he'd had a mother, he thought. Yeah, sure, she'd spent half her life in the bottle and the other half with Christ knows what men between her legs, but at least there was a roof over his head and food on the table. He hadn't had much love, but he'd had freedom – freedom to be a child, to grow, to explore. To find his own identity. Jack, fucking hell, she hadn't had a thing except horror and pain. Not to mention the unique guilt of being special, that others should die so that she could be made stronger.

He felt a shiver down his spine as he looked around at the cell where Jack had lived. Existed. Been _held_, like a prisoner, one who was tortured not for information but for _progress. _ The word felt heavy in his head.

Jack had been talking to Shepard about her past, the memories she had of the room they stood in. Now she was silent, withdrawing into herself as they waited for the shuttle to collect them. No doubt preparing herself to set off the bomb they had laid, right there in the centre of her hell.

Zaeed couldn't help feel a certain bitterness as he watched Shepard watching Jack. She'd been a rock for the biotic, no doubt – perhaps the first person in Jack's life who had persevered with her, had wanted to listen despite being sworn at and dismissed as a waste of skin like everyone else. Shepard had tried so hard to make sure that Jack got her revenge on Cerberus, had her chance for closure, to deal with this place and the people who had fucked her up.

He wished Shepard had afforded him the same chance. It pissed him off to know that Vido was still out there – to think how close he had come after so many years, and to have missed him by seconds. He didn't want to deny Jack her vengeance, but fuck if he didn't wish Shepard had thought as much of him as she did of the biotic woman.

The thought ballooned in his head as they sat on the shuttle, watching the flames of the explosion bloom beneath them. It sat in his heart like a tumour all evening, driving him wild with the unfairness of it all.

Rage was a familiar feeling. It was, in truth, all that had really sustained him over the years. It stayed with him like an old friend. An old friend who stole all your fucking whisky and gave you a headache with their incessant talking.

He wanted to be alone with his thoughts, but Shepard typically chose that moment to walk through his door.

"Hey, Zaeed. You okay? Didn't see you in the mess at mealtime."

"I'm good, Shepard," he said, abruptly.

"Zaeed? What's up?" She frowned, looking down at where he sat in the corner of the room, legs crossed.

"Just need to be on my own a while, Shepard. No offence," he said, refusing to meet her eye. He knew that if he looked at her, he would say all the things that had been going around in his mind since they left Pragia. All the things that were still bubbling under his skin about Vido. He'd thought he was able to cope with it, that he was able to focus on bigger things, but today had shown him just how much he was still bothered by the failure on Zorya.

Of course, Shepard wouldn't let it go. "Tough day today, huh, seeing all the stuff they did to those kids?"

"Shepard. Don't take this the wrong way, but I couldn't give a fuck about those kids."

Shepard actually recoiled, her eyes opening in shock.

Okay, it wasn't strictly true. He wasn't _that _much of a heartless bastard. But right now, he was too consumed by the thought of Shepard caring more about everyone else than him, the thought of Vido mocking him, Vido living life to the fullest while he was stuck here, alone and bitter, on a stupid suicide mission to hell.

"What the fuck, Zaeed?" Shepard said, her head tilted to one side as if she was trying to read his mind. "What the hell happened today to get to you like this, if not the kids?"

"Fine, Shepard, you asked for it," he said, feeling the words bubbling up in his throat. "Just, you seem to go to so much effort to make everyone happy on this ship. Bombing entire facilities so that Jack can get some closure on the shit that's gone on in her life. Flying out to the back of beyond to help Jacob settle his mind about his father. Hell, you even helped Miranda out and you can't stand that bitch."

"I don't get it," Shepard said. "You're angry because I help people?"

"Yeah. _No_," Zaeed said, with a sigh. "I'm still fucking angry that you let Vido escape. That what mattered to me didn't matter to you."

"It wasn't like that, Zaeed, and you know it," she said, shaking her head.

"No? Because it fucking feels like it," he said, his voice rising. "You listen to everyone else, what's important to them, and you do it. You help them. What did you do for me? Let me see the goddamn bastard, and then made me watch him get away. More I think about it, more I can't stand the thought of it, Shepard."

"Zaeed. I understand that -"

She never got the chance to finish.

"You don't understand a goddamn thing, Shepard. You don't get that for the last twenty years I've been marking my own grave. I might as well have died the day those bastards shot me. Most of me fucking did."

He got up, began to pace around the room.

"Twenty years, Shepard, twenty years of living like a ghost. I never used to be a fucking miserable old bastard. I used to have _plans. _ I wanted to make enough money to settle down one day, start a family. Stupid young-man dreams, you know. Fucking idiot. The only thing that's kept me here is the thought of revenge. I had it, right there in my grasp, after all that time. And you took it away from me. You've helped everyone else, but me – _nah, fuck him. These random people are far more important._ _He'll just have to deal with it,_" he said, his voice beginning to crack. "Well I'll tell you something, Shepard, I am fucking sick and tired of dealing with it."

He looked up and glared at Shepard who was standing completely still, frozen with shock. Her eyes were wide and her lips were parted; she looked as if someone had slugged her in the stomach.

She blinked once, hard, and swallowed. "Guess I should have listened to you when you said you wanted to be alone. I'm sorry, Zaeed, for what it's worth."

"Worth fuck all to me while he's still out there drawing breath, Shepard," Zaeed muttered, as Shepard turned on her heel and left.


	5. Chapter 5

Zaeed had compacted as much trash as he could find. He had compacted some old books he had been meaning to read, a shirt that didn't fit him any more and several empty whisky bottles. Pressing the button and watching all the old crap soar out into the cold depths of space was therapeutic, he thought. Right up until he began to wonder what it would be like to be spaced himself, and then remembering that Shepard _had_ been. After that, he couldn't bring himself to trash anything else.

He sighed and lay back on his bedroll. The one good thing in his life, the first good thing for countless years, was Shepard. His only friend. After today, he wondered if he had lost that, too.

He wasn't prepared for her visit that night, in the early hours of the night cycle. The green light of the door opening and the hiss of the mechanism woke him, one hand shielding his eyes as he watched her silhouette step through the opening.

"You awake, Zaeed?"

She was quiet, hesitant. He could see she had come straight from her bed, dressed only in a tank top and shorts, her hair loose and messy around her shoulders.

"Yeah." He was wide awake now, sitting up and yawning.

"Can I come in?"

He chuckled hoarsely. "Given you're already in, that seems like a stupid question Shepard."

She sighed. "I meant, can I come in and talk?"

"Depends what you want to talk about," Zaeed said.

"I wanted to apologise again," she said, her voice tired and small. "Couldn't sleep, thinking about what you said."

"Sorry doesn't change anything, though, does it Shepard?"

"I want to change things, though, Zaeed. I'm _not _sorry I made the decision I did – fuck, there were so many people in there and they would have died badly. But I'm sorry you feel I don't care. I _do_ care, Zaeed – perhaps more than I should," she paused, swallowed. "When this is all done, I swear to you we will find Vido and he'll be all yours."

"If we even live that long," Zaeed said, bitterly. "Don't want to piss on your fireworks, Shepard, but it all sounds like just words to me."

Shepard made a frustrated noise, and before he knew what was happening she was on her knees beside his bed, pressing her lips to his in a brief but forceful kiss.

"Don't know how else I can prove that you matter, Zaeed, if words aren't enough."

He froze, panic coursing through him at the very idea that she would touch him in that way. A muscle in his unmarked cheek twitched as he stared over her head, avoiding her gaze.

"Zaeed?"

He shook his head. "Don't."

He felt her lean into him, felt the heat of her skin against his arm.

"Don't what?"

"Don't pity me, goddamnit. Just find Vido. There's no need for," he waved an arm, breathed out hard, "all this."

"This isn't pity, Zaeed," she said, shifting closer. _Too close._ "I want to."

He wondered what she saw when she looked at him the way she was now. He couldn't remember the last time a woman really _saw_ him, looked beyond the scars and the sourness. To think that _this _woman, of them all, was trying – well, it was impossible. She was not for him, she had to know that.

He closed his eyes, felt her breath against his lips. Felt his whole body shudder. _Christ_, this had to be a dream. It wasn't until he sensed her arms moving and heard the rustle of clothing that reality set in.

"Shepard, stop," he said, desperately.

"Huh?" Shepard sounded fuzzy, distracted.

He dared a glance at her, crouched beside his bed. _Fuck, _she'd taken off her tank top, he could see her bare shoulders in the dim light of the room. His mind was sent reeling, and he hurriedly looked away.

"I can't do this, Shepard. Please, get dressed."

There was a long, tense silence before he heard her put the top back on and get to her feet.

When she finally spoke, her voice was clipped, professional.

"I'm sorry, Zaeed. I misjudged. Can we forget this ever happened?"

_No_. "We can try."

She nodded once, brusquely. "Goodnight, Massani."

"'Night, Shepard."

She disappeared silently into the darkness as if she had never been there, in his room, at an ungodly hour. As if she hadn't been kneeling half-naked by his side with her lips hovering over his.

Fucking hell.

He didn't sleep again that night, his mind whirling with thoughts of Shepard. He'd often watch her in battle, wild and fierce, and think that he had never seen anyone or anything as beautiful in his life. He wanted her, Christ how he wanted her. He knew, though, that there was no way he could go through with it. She needed some reliable, good-hearted, unselfish man who could worship the ground she walked on. Some tall, dark, handsome fella who would sweep her off her feet and make her proud to be by his side. Someone like that stupid bastard on Horizon. They would look good together, he thought. Obviously had been, too, at some point. Made much more sense, even if he had turned out to be a stubborn, unworthy cur.

Even so. He couldn't stop remembering how she had looked tonight, skin dusky in the shadows of the room, the gleam in her eyes as she'd looked at him. The way her lips had felt against his, softer than he had imagined. He cursed and punched his pillow angrily.

It wouldn't have worked. He couldn't just fuck her and leave, he thought, he couldn't be with her the way he'd been with the other women who had passed through his life. With them, it was rutting in the dark, mechanical and cold. He would take them from behind so they couldn't see his face as he came. They may have had his body, the physical act, but never any more than that.

It was already too late for that with Shepard.

Goddamn it, what had he got himself into. He ought to go back to the Illusive Man, double the fucking credits he was being paid for this job. He'd expected to be risking his life, sure. He hadn't expected to be risking anything else.


	6. Chapter 6

Shepard didn't ask him to come on her next two missions, neither did she visit his room. She nodded to him when he sat with her in the mess hall, polite enough, but he knew he had hurt her feelings by pushing her away that night.

It was Karin Chakwas who noticed, of all people. The doctor approached him one evening and asked for a quiet word. He followed her into the medbay in confusion.

"Doc, I hope you're not gonna be experimenting on me in here," he said, half laughing.

He stopped laughing just afterwards as she told him how she had patched up Shepard earlier after she had punched the wall in her room and fractured her knuckles. How Shepard had refused to tell her why she'd done it, but how Chakwas had seen the way she had watched Zaeed over dinner earlier and put two and two together.

"So, what's going on?" she asked, her accent sharp.

"No offence, Doc, but it's really none of your goddamn business," Zaeed said, embarrassed and defensive.

Chakwas tutted. "If our commanding officer is breaking bones up in her own room, if she's distracted on the field, I'd say it's all of our business, Zaeed, wouldn't you?"

"Just what the hell am I supposed to do about it?"

"Look, I don't know what you did to her, but whatever it was I suggest you sort it out or leave," Chakwas said, none too gently. "This isn't good for Shepard, and it's not good for the mission."

Zaeed felt his fists clenching, a wave of nausea rolling in the pit of his stomach.

"I will tell you this," he hissed, furious now and determined to defend himself, even at the cost of Shepard's privacy. "I have done _nothing_ to her. She came on to me and I turned her down. I know that's goddamn hard to believe but there it is. What would you have me do, huh? Screw her just to keep her happy?"

Chakwas regarded him calmly, not remotely fazed by his temper.

"You're telling me you don't feel a thing for her?" she asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Fuck you, doc," he said, turning to leave.

"I think I have my answer," she said, wryly. "_Zaeed_. Shepard cares about you for God's sake. I have no idea why, but she does. Don't let your old hang-ups mess it up for both of you."

Zaeed paused, not looking back. "What would you know, old woman?" he spat, trying to hide the tremor in his voice.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

Chakwas shook her head as Zaeed stormed out of the medbay, knocking over a tray of supplies as he went.

* * *

He sat on a crate in the cargo bay, head in his hands. Thinking about what Chakwas had said, how close to the goddamn truth she was. Half of him wanted to go to Shepard right now and ask her forgiveness, half of him wanted to get off the ship at the next stop and never see her again, credits be damned.

Neither option seemed like it would fix anything.

He spent an hour disassembling Jessie, oiling the parts, reassembling. Trying not to notice how his hands were shaking, hoping he didn't damage the gun in his distracted state. Usually, spending time with the old weapon calmed him, took away the stresses and anxiety of the day. Today, it didn't work.

He sighed and let his feet carry him to Shepard's cabin.

The door slid open and he took a step forward, his heart beating so hard he could feel it in his throat. Shepard was sitting at her desk, typing an email. She didn't even acknowledge his presence.

He cleared his throat. "Shepard?"

She paused, her hands frozen over the datapad. "Zaeed."

Suddenly all his words deserted him and he stood helplessly in the doorway, fighting the urge to run.

She didn't turn to look at him, just sat as still as a statue, waiting. Seconds ticked by, feeling like hours. Eventually, she spoke.

"You here for a reason, Zaeed, or just trying to freak me out?"

He took a deep breath, forced himself to take a step towards her. "Fuck, Shepard, this is impossible."

"You're kidding me, right?" She finally spun her chair to look him in the eye. "We're trying to take down the Reapers, and you tell me that just _talking_ to me is impossible? The hell?"

He flushed, his mouth opening like a fish. "It's not the same."

"Whatever," she said, pulling herself up to her full height and looming over him. "I don't even know why you're still here."

"Goddamn it. I acted like an idiot the other night, Shepard, that what you want to hear? If I gave wrong signals, I'm sorry."

Shepard gave a bitter laugh. "_Wrong signals, _I see. Loud and clear. You know something, Zaeed?"

He shook his head, feeling his fight-or-flight instincts kicking in, struggling to control them.

"Someone once said to me, a woman like you could take her pick of guys. Remember?"

As if it were yesterday, he thought, nodding his head. Could replay that whole conversation. He was just surprised she could recall it.

Shepard walked towards him, fixing him with a defiant stare. "Yeah, well Zaeed, seems you were wrong about that."

He felt his control fraying, felt his chest tighten. "Fuck, Shepard. I'm wrong about a ton of things, but not that. Not that."

"Then why?" Her eyes were suddenly filling with tears, of anger or humiliation Zaeed did not know.

Oh, God. He felt completely out of his depth. Give him a battleground, an assignment, a grubby nightclub and he would be fine. This – this, he had no idea how to deal with. He decided all he could do was to be honest, try and repair the mess their friendship had become.

"That's exactly the word I'd use too, Shepard," he said, tiredly. "Why. Why would a woman like you even give two minutes out of her day for a man like me? I can't give you what you need. I don't even know what that is."

"Who the fuck are you to decide what I need, Massani?" She was pacing now, long strides across her room from fish tank to sofa.

"You don't know me at all," he said, his voice low. "You think you do, but you don't. You know me as a soldier, and Christ knows, we work well together. We're goddamn galaxy-saving heroes. But this – this is something else entirely. I don't know if I can."

"What's this about, Zaeed?" She was surprisingly gentle, almost resigned.

He shook his head, laughed bitterly. Sank down on the edge of her sofa.

"Suppose I'll tell you a story, Shepard," he said, his head bowed. "Say there was a guy, young, well put together. Dark hair, green eyes, not quite model material but never went short of attention. Never from anyone like you, mind, but there were always women trying to catch his eye. Pretty great life this guy led, all things considered. Even met a girl one day, someone special. Saving up for the ring."

Shepard was silent, focused on his words.

"Attractive young lass, she was, brunette, olive coloured eyes like yours. Good heart, too. Made the young man feel that he was a better person for having her love."

Zaeed stood up, walked over to the fish tank and stared into its bright blue depths.

"Course, she never stuck around after he got shot. Neither did anyone else for that matter. Surprising how many people stare at you on the street, when you don't quite look the same as they do. Young man got used to it, though. Got accustomed to being _not like them. _To his relationships being business transactions. Cause, be honest, who'd want to subject themselves to the same fucking sympathetic stares as he got?"

He rested his forehead against the glass, closed his eyes.

"Nobody would choose this, Shepard. Least of all someone like you. Don't try to convince me you're any different."

He felt her lay a hand on his back.

"I don't want to have to convince you, Zaeed. I want you to be able to see it."

He was silent for a moment, the only sound the gentle bubbling of the tank.

"Christ, Shepard, you're the single most beautiful woman I have ever met, and not just for how you look. Even when I was younger… fucking hell, I don't think I would have had the balls to approach you. And now, now you're asking me to believe that this is, well, I don't know," he said, his voice hitching.

"Believe it, Zaeed."

She curled one hand around his shoulder, turning him to face her, his back against the glass. The blue light flickered across her face, making her seem like a magical being from an undiscovered world. His breath caught in his throat.

"Right now," she said, her voice steady, her eyes meeting his, "I really want to kiss you."

_Shit. _He felt the familiar panic in his lungs, the urge to get as far away from her room as possible. Swallowing hard, he allowed the fear to be overtaken by another feeling, one he hadn't felt for some time. _Desire_.

He nodded, unable to speak, and felt her lips against his, freezing his mind with the incredulity of it all. _She was kissing him_, this incredible woman, she was looking right at him and she was kissing him like he was all she wanted.

At first it was awkward, unnatural, his body taut and tense against hers. His lips didn't seem to do what he wanted them to and he felt as clumsy as a teenager with his first girlfriend. Before long, though, he relaxed – his mouth opening to her and feeling her exploring him with her tongue. In between kisses, she was making soft whimpering noises that shot straight to his groin_._

Eventually they pulled apart, staring at each other as if they were strangers. In some ways, he thought, they were.

She reached out a hand, tracing her fingers across his cheek, following the line of his scar. He tensed, jaw tight and eyes closing, suddenly wanting to curl into himself and hide from her. He had never felt so exposed.

"Zaeed," she said, her voice softer than he thought he had ever heard it. "I've wanted to do this for such a long time now."

He shook his head, feeling as if he had a lump in his chest. "I'm not complaining, Shepard, but why me?"

She sighed, pressed her lips lightly against his damaged cheek near his mouth, where the scar began. "Lots of reasons, Zaeed. You know, you understand me, more than most. You know when to make me laugh and when to be serious. Nobody can change you, either – you are who you are, you have your own values and priorities and you're damn single minded about it, which can be as frustrating as all hell, but also I admire that about you. You're more loyal than you'd like to admit… and you're fucking gorgeous as well, which doesn't hurt."

"You're gonna have to give me about ten years to get my head around that one, Shepard," he said, while inside his stomach twisted into knots. _Gorgeous_, he couldn't even remember the last time someone had said that about him. And here it was, coming out of the mouth of the most amazing woman he had ever met.

"Let me try to persuade you in three," she laughed, peppering his face with gentle kisses.

He groaned and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him and losing himself in her embrace once again.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** This is an entire chapter of smut. An _entire_ chapter. I couldn't get them to stop once they'd started.

Thank you to everyone who has read and favourited/commented so far – it has really made my day!

* * *

Shepard was flat on her back on the bed. She was still fully clothed but her long hair was loose and spread out across the pillow, her lips red and puffy with the kisses they had shared. She grinned at him and stretched out a hand.

He hesitated, nervous all over again. He knew this was not going to be a ten minute fumble, not a situation where he could detach himself from his body and lose himself in physical sensation. She noticed his uncertainty, her smile faltering.

"Everything OK, Zaeed?"

"Yeah, Shepard," he said, haltingly. "Just been a while, is all."

_If only she knew, _he thought, as he knelt on the edge of the mattress and leaned over to kiss her, _I haven't made love to a woman for over twenty years._ He thought the idea of that might well send her running. Goddamn it, there was a part of him that still wanted to get up and leave.

He pushed that thought away as he fumbled with the zip on her hoodie, drawing it down and spreading it open. She was wearing a thin white T-shirt underneath, tight and clinging. She raised her body up, wriggled out of the hoodie and lifted her arms for him to remove the T-shirt.

Zaeed remembered how she had looked in that dress, months ago. He recalled how he had fantasised about the curves of her body, the hard muscle and soft skin, had imagined what she had looked like naked.

The reality was so much better than he could ever have dreamed.

He ran the palm of his hand across her collarbone and chest, feeling her skin smooth and warm under his touch. His fingers toyed at the edges of her white lace bra, her dark nipples clearly visible through the filmy fabric.

She murmured his name, her back arching off the bed as he cupped a breast in his hand, his thumb stroking over her nipple.

"Christ, Shepard," he said, his voice low. "You're something else, you know?"

She smiled and slid the straps of her bra down her arms, wriggling to unclip it. He felt his mouth dry up as he stared at her, lying half-naked on the bed, her eyes sparkling seductively as she undid the button of her cargo pants.

"Don't just sit there, Zaeed," she said, with a laugh. "Help me out of these things."

Zaeed pulled at the trousers as she unzipped them, sliding them down her long, muscled legs. He couldn't help but picture them wrapped around his waist, biting back a groan at the image. She looked incredible, her almond skin almost glowing in the shimmering cerulean light of the room. He tried to commit the sight of her to memory, that it might sustain him through future lonely nights.

"You're overdressed, Massani," she said, pulling him down towards her for another kiss. Her hands slid under his shirt and he twitched as she made contact with the soft skin of his sides.

She slipped his shirt off, running her hands across his back, tracing the puckered scars of old bullet wounds and the longer, thinner scars made by a would-be assassin's blade. He shuddered at her touch, his skin more sensitive in the heat of desire than he had thought it could ever be. He couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him as gently as Shepard was now. It felt wonderful.

He watched Shepard's face carefully as she unzipped his pants and stripped him bare. Her lip caught between her teeth as she noticed how aroused he already was, and she inhaled hard.

He couldn't resist smirking at her. "Better?"

"Much," she said, her voice husky as her eyes roamed over his body. To Zaeed's surprise, he was relaxed and comfortable under her gaze. Confidently, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, until they lay chest to chest, skin against skin. He kissed her again, deeply, feeling as if he could never get enough.

He could have stayed for hours just like that, feeling the warmth of her body and the wonder of her kisses. Shepard, however, was in a less patient mood.

When she first wrapped her hand around his length, he almost hit the ceiling. He hadn't noticed her movement, and the shock of the contact made him shout a curse and buck his hips. _Christ_, it was good to have her touch him there. She made a few lazy strokes, her thumb caressing the tip, before she pushed him over on to his back and hovered over him, her eyes dancing in the half-light.

"Oh, God, Shepard," Zaeed hissed as she lowered her head and licked his shaft from base to tip. He watched incredulously, brushing her hair away from her face with one hand so he could see himself disappearing into her mouth. It felt indescribable, he thought, this most intimate of connections with someone he… well, _respected_ was far too unsatisfactory a word. His heart fluttered as he searched for the right word, stuttered close to it, fled away.

His head fell back on to the pillow and he lay gasping as he felt the pressure of her lips sliding along his cock, her tongue flicking lightly across the head before she took him deeper again.

"Shepard, if you don't stop…"

"Mmm," she said, not stopping. She gazed up at him and he almost fell apart at the look on her face. At just how much she was enjoying doing this to him. She began to stroke his balls with her hand as her mouth continued its ministrations.

"Oh, Shepard, fuck," he said, desperation in his voice as his body arched into her, feeling the familiar tension in his groin.

Then there were only curse words, and exploding stars as he came. She wrapped her lips around him and held him in her mouth, her eyes on his. He could barely catch breath, his body loose-limbed and relaxed in the afterglow of the best orgasm he had experienced for a long time.

For a moment Zaeed couldn't move, swept away in the physical sensation of his climax, but also overwhelmed by what he felt for the woman who now lay beside him, fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest.

He lifted her hand to his mouth, kissed her fingertips.

"You're amazing," he said, simply. He had never been inclined towards compliments and words but lying here now, gazing down at Shepard looking more beautiful than he thought he had ever seen her, he couldn't help himself.

"Not so shabby yourself, Massani," she smiled up at him, her features open and calm.

"Haven't even done anything yet, Shepard," he said, feeling her huff a quiet laugh in his arms.

"Then why don't you put that right?" she said, rolling her body so that her breasts rubbed against his chest, making him growl with renewed desire.

Zaeed cupped her breasts as he kissed her, gently pinching her nipples between his fingers. Shepard moaned and arched her back as he moved his lips to her neck, planting open-mouthed kisses on her scented skin. He kissed his way down her body until he reached her breasts, taking first one and then the other into his mouth and suckling softly. She rewarded him with more quiet cries, sending shivers through his body.

He moved lower and hooked his fingers into the waistband of the white lace panties she still wore, tugging them down her legs. When he found them soaked, he couldn't suppress a groan.

Shepard heard him and gave him a wicked smile. "For you, Zaeed."

Christ, he thought, she was going to kill him. He'd survived a gunshot to the head, and he was gonna die right here from pure, mind-blowing need for a woman. Hell of an epitaph, he smiled inwardly.

Zaeed lifted one of her legs and began – oh so slowly - to press butterfly kisses from her ankle towards her thigh. She whined and shivered beneath him, her hips wriggling in desperation. When he finally ran his tongue along her slit, she lifted her whole body up off the bed, crying out his name.

He steadied her with hands on hips as he settled between her thighs and began to run his lips and tongue over her, suckling at her clit. He was stunned at how turned on she was, her breathy little gasps the soundtrack to the taste of her, the incredible wetness of her sex. He couldn't get enough.

If she noticed he was out of practice, it certainly didn't show. She seemed to be loving every touch, every contact he made with her. He had never been with such a responsive woman, her body writhing and trembling, the sounds she was making shooting straight to his cock. He was already half hard again, imagining what it would feel like to be buried inside her. Knowing that before the night was out, it would be a memory and not a fantasy.

Zaeed had two fingers inside her now, curling them and pumping in and out of her while his tongue concentrated on her clit. The noises she made were getting louder and she was almost out of control; he had to hold her still more than once as she wriggled away from his mouth.

Shepard suddenly clamped her thighs around his head and _screamed. _He felt her whole body shudder violently and a rush of wetness on his fingers as she climaxed, loud and intense. She collapsed on the bed, gasping and shaking, as he rolled over beside her.

"Was that good, then, Shepard?" he asked, a slight grin on his features.

"Fucking hell, Zaeed. You'd been holding out on me. If I'd known you could do _that_…" she said, breathlessly.

Zaeed felt an odd rush of pride as he looked down at her, sated and content, stretching out on the bed like a tigress.

"So," Shepard said, raising one eyebrow. "You gonna fuck me, Massani, or what?"

He didn't need asking twice.

Nothing in the world compared to the feeling of being inside her, he thought as he slid into her wetness. She was so hot and tight, and if he hadn't already come once he thought he would probably have lasted mere seconds. He said her name, she groaned, and they held still for a heartbeat, looking into each other's eyes and savouring the intimacy of the moment.

When he started moving - slow and deliberate - and she began to whimper, he almost passed out with the wonder of it. _My god, _he thought, _it's never felt like this. Never._

Shepard wrapped her legs around his waist and urged him deeper, faster. They were both so turned on, so sensitive that he knew it would not last long, but he knew also that this would be the best he had ever felt, the night he would always remember until the end of times. Every second was delicious torture, his skin alive and tingling, his mind hyper-aware of every little detail. The sweat running down his brow, the way her fingernails felt digging into his back, the redness of her lips, the way she smelled.

They rocked together, still looking into each other's eyes, seeing desire and lust but also warmth and affection. He felt his chest constrict as he gazed at Shepard, this strong, tough, beautiful soldier who was, quite possibly, all he could ever want in a woman. Who wanted him, too. For the first time, he didn't feel uncertain. He thought, with some degree of shock, that he actually felt desirable again_. _And it was exhilarating.

"Zaeed," she breathed, curling into his shoulder and biting into his skin gently as her body shook. He felt her walls constrict, clamping down on him as she tipped into her second orgasm of the night, quieter this time but just as intense. The feeling of her tightening around him was enough to send him over the edge, gasping and murmuring her name as he came inside her.

They didn't speak for a long time afterwards. He curled her hair around his fingers, she stroked his chest in slow, dragging motions. They lay close together, skin against skin, breathing deeply. It felt easy, he thought, as if they both belonged here.

_Christ, Massani, you're getting soft in your old age._

_Don't give a fuck, _he answered himself mentally. _Just look at her._

_You have a point._

When she turned to him and asked him to stay, he held her tight and kissed her hard.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Short chapter but wanted to put something up as I have had a busy week and not had much time to write. Should be more by the weekend. Hope people are still enjoying :)

* * *

Zaeed cracked open one eye, aware of both a soft mattress beneath him and a warm body behind him. Neither of these were usual occurrences and he took some time to remember where he was and what had happened the night before.

_Christ, _he thought, _that was a turn of events._ He wondered what would happen now, whether it had been a one-time thing for Shepard - maybe to prove a point - or if, for some Godforsaken reason, she was actually interested in him.

And if she was? He sighed, stretching his body against the soft sheets. This had not been on his agenda. But last night… he knew he would never forget it, no matter what. First time in however many years he had _felt_ something beyond the physical act. He closed his eyes again, a smile playing over his lips as he remembered how Shepard had looked, how she had curled around him, how she had felt…

Just like that, he was hard again. He twisted his hips, pressing himself into the mattress with a quiet groan. Shepard stirred behind him, her breasts brushing against his back.

"Zaeed?"

Her voice was sleepy, his name a lazy drawl. It sent shivers of desire along his spine.

"Morning, Shepard," he said, rolling over on to his back, his erection obvious under the thin sheets. "Sleep well?"

"Mm. Best night I've had in ages. In many ways," she said, pressing herself into his side, fingers stretching out to trace circles on his chest.

"Don't regret it, then?" His voice was slightly hesitant, trying not to give away how much he wanted to know the answer to that question.

Shepard laughed gently, surprised at the mercenary's vulnerability. "Not one bit. How could I? I would regret not having done it," she said, "and I would regret not doing it again."

With that, she pushed back the sheets and straddled him, sliding his length along her slit.

Zaeed cried out, low and husky, as she sank down on to him, and was soon lost in the soft feel of her around him, her flexing muscles under damp skin, the musky scent of her arousal. The sight of her tanned stomach rising and falling with the deep breaths she took as she rode him, her breasts swaying with the rhythm of her body.

He could never grow tired of this feeling, he thought, each time he was inside her he was already wanting more. Already wondering when the next time would be. _Never wanting it to end. _Fuck, he was in trouble. He didn't even care.

* * *

They had made love one more time, standing in the shower as they soaped each other clean. Zaeed was sitting in the mess hall now, his hair damp and his appetite enormous. He was wolfing down the bland, watery porridge that Rupert had made as if it was the best breakfast he had ever had.

"You look cheerful," Garrus said, plopping down into the chair opposite him.

Zaeed chuckled. He _was _cheerful. Odd feeling.

"That not allowed?"

"Oh, it's allowed," Garrus said, picking up a dextro sweet roll. "Just confusing."

"Man can't be in a good mood round here without being picked on," Zaeed rolled his eyes dramatically, a smile breaking across his face.

Garrus blinked at him and shook his head. There were some weird things going on round here lately, but this took the biscuit. He opened his mouth to ask what had happened to make the grouchy mercenary so uncharacteristically happy, when Shepard appeared and pulled out the chair next to Zaeed. One look at Shepard's face and Garrus began to put two and two together.

"You too?" he asked, his mandibles flaring in an unmistakeable grin.

"What are you on about, Garrus?" Shepard raised an eyebrow, her tone casual but her cheeks turning an attractive pink colour.

"Well, you got Zaeed here, sitting with that look on his face like he's the cat that got the milk. Not exactly usual, I'm sure you'll understand," Garrus said. "Then you show up, all flushed and grinning. Just wondering whether there's something in the water. Or some other explanation."

"Cream, Garrus."

The turian frowned. "What?"

"The cat that got the cream, not the milk. Stupid phrase anyway. Cats aren't even supposed to have cream," Shepard said. "We had cats on our farm when I was little, if we gave them dairy they were sick. I can tell you, they didn't ever look too happy about that."

"You had cats?" Zaeed asked with a smile. He knew full well what Shepard was doing.

"Yeah, loads of them. My mother was like a crazy cat lady," Shepard said. "Mostly old farm tabbies, kept the rats away. I remember this one giant ginger tom cat, half an ear missing, scars across his nose, breath that could take out a Reaper. Slept on my bed every night. I called him Cuddles."

"Cute."

"Yeah. I miss the old bastard. Wonder what happened to them all, the cats."

"Pretty resourceful animals, Shepard," Zaeed said. "Bet they're all fending for themselves now, raising thousands of kittens."

"Probably," she said, sighing. "God, listen to me, getting all worried over a cat. Not as if we don't have bigger problems to deal with, is it?"

"Talking of which, Shepard," Zaeed said, "how much longer until we hit that old Collector ship?"

"Pretty much hoping we aren't actually going to hit it, given that we have Joker at the helm," she said, "but we ought to be there in around seven hours. Time for plenty of calibrating."

"I hope you're referring to me, Shepard," Garrus said.

"Of course. What else?"

Shepard grinned at them both, patted Zaeed on the shoulder and disappeared back to her cabin. Zaeed waited until Garrus had gone back to the main battery and there was nobody but Rupert around before following her.


	9. Chapter 9

The Illusive Man was going to die. Painfully. Zaeed was already having fantasies about how he would make him suffer before giving him a "freebie" bullet in the brain. The Collector Ship he had sent them to – apparently abandoned and adrift in space – was not only teeming with reaper forces, but it was clear also that the smarmy old bastard had known all about it. He had sent them into a trap.

Shepard was down in the comms room, no doubt already giving the man a piece of her mind. Zaeed was in the medbay, getting patched up by an efficient Dr Chakwas. Not only had he had several chunks taken out of him by husks, but he had also sprained his shoulder when the platform he had been standing on had shifted suddenly beneath his feet and he had fallen.

"Christ, Doc, no need to be gentle eh?" Zaeed hissed in pain as Chakwas slapped on some more medigel and pressed another bandage against a particularly raw wound.

"I'm just doing my job Zaeed," the doctor said. "Trust me, this'll get you patched up good as new. You know, if I'd known you earlier, you wouldn't have half the scars you do."

"You trying to say something about my looks?" Zaeed raised an eyebrow at the older woman, who was now bending over a burn on his ankle.

"Not at all, Zaeed. Just remarking on my considerable medical abilities," Chakwas said with a smile. "Right, there you go. Give it a few days and you'll never know you had a fight. Just, you know, take it easy for a while. No strenuous bedroom action up there in the commander's cabin."

Zaeed choked on his own breath as he stared at the doctor in shock.

"What did you say?"

"Oh come now, Massani," the doctor almost purred, her British accent like honey. "It's obvious, the way you've both been acting – everyone can see it. You're crazy about each other. It's about time you finally got it together, and I for one am glad to see it."

"Wouldn't go that far, but thanks. I guess," Zaeed said, his face burning up. He was horrendously bad at conversations like this. Besides, it wasn't as if he and Shepard had anything serious going on. He liked her, sure – hell, he liked her a lot - but he was an old soldier and sensible enough to know something like this wasn't going to last forever. He wasn't sure how he felt about other people knowing. It made him uncomfortable.

"You know, doc, appreciate it if you don't talk to anyone else about this," he said, getting up from the medbay bed. "Just wouldn't want people getting the wrong idea."

"I would never do such a thing," Chakwas pressed her hand dramatically to her chest as if she was shocked that Zaeed would even suggest it.

"Great. Thanks, doc. See you around."

Shepard had asked Zaeed to wait in her cabin, but after the conversation he had just had he felt that he wanted to be alone to think things over. He retreated to his spot in the cargo bay and asked EDI to lock the door behind him.

"Let nobody in, EDI," he said, "I'm tired and need some rest."

"Understood, Mr Massani."

It was only about half an hour later that EDI was announcing Shepard's presence outside Zaeed's room. Shepard was, predictably, asking for entry.

"Tell her I'm asleep, EDI," Zaeed sighed, hating having to do this but knowing that he couldn't face her right now. "As I said before, I don't want to be disturbed, not by anyone."

"I will inform her that you cannot be woken, Mr Massani. I am not very comfortable with lying to her, however."

"You don't need to be comfortable with it," he said, wondering how an AI could feel uncomfortable anyway. "Just do it, please."

"Consider it done."

"Thank you."

He turned over on his cot, burying his face in the pillow. Half of him couldn't quite believe he was here when Shepard had invited him back to her cabin again. _You must be losing your mind, old man_, he thought, _woman like that wants you and you're blowing her off._ But the other half of him was troubled by thoughts that people would start to think of them as a couple, _Shepard and Massani, _ and that bothered him more than he would like to admit.

For one thing, he was a proud man. He didn't want people to look at him and wonder what Shepard saw in him – Christ only knew, he didn't have a clue himself. And he didn't want to see anyone's face when this – whatever it was between him and Shepard – came to an end, didn't want people to feel sorry for him, as if she had inevitably broken his heart.

It wasn't like that, goddamnit. He was attracted to her – sure, she was beautiful – and the sex had been incredible, but surely it was like scratching an itch for both of them. Not as if they were declaring their undying love. How had it got so complicated already?

He didn't sleep that night, thinking about Shepard up in her cabin. Wondering what she would make of his retreat into his own room. Part of him felt guilty about shutting her out, but mostly he was confused. He wasn't quite sure how he had gone from feeling on top of the world, wanting nothing more than to make love to Shepard over and over again, to this – cold, empty and distant – in a matter of hours. Perhaps there was something properly wrong with him; maybe Jack wasn't the only psycho on board.

That was a comforting thought. Maybe, he considered, it was time for him to take his leave from the ship. If Chakwas had thought things were awkward for Shepard before, it was likely that he had just made it all much worse.

His mind made up, he began to stow his few possessions into a holdall. They would have to stop to refuel very soon; he could slope away quietly then and find transport back to Omega.

* * *

He had reckoned without Shepard's tenacity, however. Maybe she hadn't slept either, but when the Normandy pulled into dock in the Skepsis system to load up on fuel – still two hours away from the day shift – Zaeed hadn't got any further than the elevator before he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going, Massani?"

She looked tired, eyes red and skin dry – but more than that, he noted, she looked angry. Her gaze was flinty and her chin tilted as she looked him in the eye and silently demanded that he answer her question.

He shifted the holdall uncomfortably on his shoulder. There was a long pause as he struggled to find the words to reply. Eventually, after she continued to fix him with that icy stare, he blurted out the honest truth.

"Figured I'd try to get back to Omega, hitch a ride on some other ship passing by."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "And just why would you want to do that?"

Zaeed sighed. "Easier for both of us, I reckon, Shepard. Last thing either of us needs right now is a distraction. You've got enough to deal with without me fucking things up."

"Right, I see. A _distraction_. One you were happy enough with, I seem to remember, not even two nights ago," she said, shaking her head. "This your usual modus operandi, is it? Fuck me and fuck off?"

Zaeed grimaced. That was precisely what he had promised himself he would not do, not this time. Seemed old habits died hard.

"What's up, don't like me telling it how I see it?" She was on a roll now, her voice low and quiet, but ringing with bitterness. "You know, you leave now and you won't see a single one of the credits Cerberus promised you, I will personally make sure of that."

"I don't care about the credits, Shepard," he said, wishing that the ground would swallow him up, that he was not here right now in the corridor having this physically painful conversation.

"Right, you want to get away from me so badly that you'd willingly wave goodbye to a small fortune. That feels real nice," she said, voice breaking, unmistakeable pain in her eyes replacing the anger. "I know you're a bastard, Zaeed, but I hadn't thought even you would do something like this. Pretending you give a shit, that you wanted me – really wanted me – making me feel like a million dollars, then trying to sneak off in the dead of night without a second look back. You're a piece of work, you know. Maybe you _should_ go."

She wheeled away from him, punching the elevator call button so hard that he thought she may have dented the wall. They waited in silence for the elevator to come, the air bristling with tension as they avoided each other's eyes.

_Goddamn slow elevators._

Finally the car arrived and Shepard stepped back, gesturing for him to get in. "Go on then. Fuck off. Have a nice fucking life."

He looked at her for a long time, words bubbling in his throat and jumbling together so that nothing made sense any more.

He took a deep breath, swallowed. "Goddamn sorry, Shepard. Never meant for this."

"Sorry doesn't change anything though, does it Zaeed. You said that to me once. You were right."

He nodded, stepped into the elevator and pushed the button, watching the doors slowly close on the first woman he had cared about since his Eilidh, all those years ago.


	10. Chapter 10

Zaeed's feet felt as heavy as his heart as he trudged through the CIC, head low. Luckily most people were still in their bunks and the few staff manning the essential ship's functions gave him no more than a cursory glance. Unfortunately for him, the easy exit he was hoping for was scuppered as he reached the bridge.

Joker had spun his chair around to watch Zaeed's approach, and by the look on his face he had something to say. Zaeed sighed. _Damn that pilot, it's like he never sleeps._

"Whatever it is, Joker, I don't want to hear it," he said, hefting his bag higher on to his shoulder and heading towards the airlock.

"EDI, lock down the ship," Joker said, a smirk on his face as the AI responded in the affirmative. "Guess you're not going anywhere until I've said my piece."

"This is none of your goddamn business. Now open the fucking door."

Joker shook his head. "You might not realise this, Massani, but I have access to all public areas of the ship so I know what's going on, and I'm making it my business. Shepard fucking _died _for me, she's the only person outside my own family that I give a damn about and I won't just sit back and watch you screw her over. She deserves better than that."

"You don't have to tell me what she deserves, Moreau. That's precisely why I'm leaving," Zaeed said, feeling his fists bunching. "Now get out of my way, I'm not above punching a cripple."

"Oooh, I'm scared," Joker said, batting his eyelashes ridiculously. "Seriously, man, I don't know who you're trying to fool with that line. I might not like people much, but I know 'em, and I know exactly why you're leaving."

"You don't know a fucking thing."

"Oh, don't I?" Joker got out of his chair and walked right up to Zaeed, pulling himself as tall as he could to look the mercenary in the eye. "You're fucking scared, Massani. For such a big guy, you're a pretty major coward, huh? Tell you something, you've totally misunderstood Shepard. And I thought I was clueless about women."

Zaeed dug his fingernails into his palms, his jaw clenching so hard that his chin wobbled. He really didn't want to hit the pilot, but he was finding it more and more difficult to hold himself back.

Joker let out a breath and shook his head. "She fucking cares about you, man. I have no idea why, but she does. I've known her long enough to know she doesn't just do casual stuff. Might have been just a fuck to you, but don't even try to convince yourself it was the same for her."

"What do you know about any of it? You weren't there."

"I don't need to be. And you know something? I don't think it was just a fuck for you either."

Zaeed felt his stomach flip and inhaled sharply. "And what if it was? What if I was just a bit sick of my own company, fancied a quick one with a real woman?"

"Then you would've picked someone up in Purgatory, or some other place," Joker said. "You wouldn't have gone for Shepard."

Zaeed was silent, glaring at the pilot. Joker was unperturbed, and continued with his diatribe.

"You know, if Shepard wants you, it's because she likes you. She doesn't give a shit what anyone else might think. Just 'cause your face is fucked up, don't think it means she thinks of you as anything other than a man – a man she wants, for fucks sake. You know how many men would kill to be in your position?"

Zaeed chuckled bitterly. "Jealous, are you?"

"Don't fucking try to derail me," Joker said angrily. "Great thing about Shepard is that she always sees the best in people. I should fucking know, how many people d'you reckon see me as some kind of sympathy case? Not _her_. Just a damn shame people don't seem to treat her with the same kind of respect."

"I never made any promises to anyone, and I don't need a fucking lecture from you about my social skills," Zaeed said irritably.

Joker rolled his eyes. "What I'm trying to say, Massani, is that you can hide behind your scars and use them as an excuse to run away from people all you like, but just so you know, to those who really matter, it doesn't matter. It's only you who ends up miserable. You know, just 'cause you're not some perfect poster-boy it doesn't make you any less of a person. Took me over twenty years to learn that for myself. Don't waste any more time, Zaeed, just 'cause you're shitting yourself silly over what people are gonna think about you and Shepard."

"Doesn't fucking matter anyway, Moreau. Got nothing left to waste. Think it's pretty clear I'm not welcome here any more, even if I wanted to stay. So can you just open the goddamn door?"

"No."

Zaeed grabbed Joker by the shoulders, none too gently. "Goddamn you, if you don't open that door right now..."

"I do that and you'll float away into the atmosphere," Joker's voice was irritatingly smug. "Guess you didn't notice we finished fuelling and left?"

"Fuck!" Zaeed shoved the pilot away and tore at his hair as he paced back and forth.

"Guess you're just gonna have to grow a pair, huh, Zaeed?"

"What makes you think I won't just get off wherever we stop next?"

"Because, genius, we're headed to a dilapidated Reaper, not a planet. Doubt you'd get far."

Zaeed felt his heart sink. Why did everyone on this ship feel the need to lecture him about Shepard? Sure, he knew they cared about her – who didn't – but he was sick to death of being told what to do and how to feel. Truth was, even if he did slightly regret his impulsive decision to leave, he'd blown it with Shepard once and for all. She wasn't going to want to see his face at the mess table the next morning, and he didn't want to have to follow her in battle, watching her graceful body and her precise movements, all the while knowing what he had done and what he had lost.

He knew he couldn't simply walk away and forget about her, either. Every time he closed his eyes he would see her, lying on her back, naked and smiling with her long honey-gold hair fanned out across the pillows. He remembered the softness of her curves over hard muscles, the location of the faint scars that ran silvery across her tan skin, the way she tasted. The expression in her eyes when she looked at him, as if he was the lover she had always waited for.

No, there was no forgetting any of that, and he knew that no matter how far he ran he would take her with him.

He sank down into the co-pilot's chair with a sigh. "I'm so fucking stupid."

Joker looked at him sideways. "You can say that again."

"Christ," Zaeed said, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands. "What am I supposed to do now, eh?"

"You're hardly consulting the oracle here, Zaeed, gotta say," Joker said. "All I can suggest is go talk to her."

"Yeah, maybe," Zaeed said, feeling dread lying heavy in the pit of his stomach like a stone. Talking had never been his strong point.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Shepard didn't choose him for the next mission. He didn't even know if she was aware that he was still on board. He hated being left behind; not only did he get bored easily, but he also worried what might be happening to Shepard while she was away. It always seemed as if time stood still until he knew she was safely back on the ship.

This time, the mission seemed to go smoothly. The IFF device that they had sought from the derelict Reaper was intact and had been retrieved, along with what appeared to be a Geth unit. EDI was working on installing the IFF into the Normandy in preparation for the long-awaited trip through the Omega-4 relay. The geth had been stored in the AI core.

Zaeed was in the mess hall when the commander walked past, focused on the medbay.

"Shepard," he said, his voice just loud enough to stop her in her tracks.

"I thought I told you to go," she said without looking at him, all anger gone from her voice. She sounded tired, he thought.

"Yeah, well," he said, hesitantly, "there was something I had to tell you first."

"Go on then," she said, "I'm listening."

Zaeed glanced around the room. Rupert was wiping down the kitchen counters, clearly pretending that he wasn't straining his ears to hear them. A few other officers were dotted around the room, most involved in their own conversations, but this was hardly private.

"Look, can I talk to you somewhere quiet," he said. "Would rather everyone not know my business, Shepard."

"If you've got something to say to me, Zaeed, you can say it right here," Shepard said, sitting down in the seat opposite his and looking him directly in the eye.

"Goddamn it," Zaeed muttered, feeling his throat constricting. He knew he owed this much to her, though, after what he had done.

"Shepard… this isn't easy for me," he said, knowing that it was all too painfully obvious that he was stumbling over his words. "I just want you to know that I never meant any of that stuff I said the other night. Guess I just panicked, couldn't quite handle what happened. Not something I'm good at, you know. I feel like the biggest shit about it all. I'm sorry, Shepard. If I could take it back, I would."

Shepard closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"So you should, Zaeed. It was a shitty thing to do, and I don't know if I can ever really forgive you for it. You know, I thought we had something. Tore me up a bit that you weren't the man I thought you were," she said, bitterly. "But even so, I'm glad you're here as it's gonna be all hands on deck for the Omega run. So I accept your apology."

Zaeed let out the breath he had not realised he had been holding. "Won't happen again, Shepard, I promise."

"You won't get the chance to do that to me again, Zaeed," she said, sadly. "Now, you want to see what happens when I activate this geth?"

"Heh. Why not," he said, relieved that he was still aboard and she was talking to him. Damn if it wouldn't be difficult to be around her and not picture what she looked like writhing beneath him or to remember how she sounded when she came. Still, they had been friends before – perhaps they could be again.


End file.
